


(Be Better Through) Handholding

by exmanhater



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Bets & Wagers, First Time, Frottage, Holding Hands, M/M, Real Hockey Bros Hold Hands, Rookies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 23:16:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2406524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exmanhater/pseuds/exmanhater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This is ridiculous," Patrick whines, shifting on the bench Jonny's currently sharing with him in the locker room. "Sharpy, c'mon, this is bullshit!"</p><p>Jonny grimaces in agreement, but stays quiet, flexing the fingers of his right hand where they're currently being clutched by Patrick's left hand. It's an uncomfortable, sweaty grip even though they've both had their post-game showers. Jonny doesn't know why Patrick thinks Sharpy is going to give in and let them let go. Sharpy <i>never</i> gives in, at least not for Jonny's benefit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Be Better Through) Handholding

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Real Hockey Bros Hold Hands](http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/real-hockey-bros-hold-hands) minificathon on Tumblr, and originally posted [there](http://exmanhater.tumblr.com/post/99110917061/ficlet-be-better-through-handholding-kane-toews). It's been cleaned up and expanded since then.

"This is ridiculous," Patrick whines, shifting on the bench Jonny's currently sharing with him in the locker room. "Sharpy, c'mon, this is bullshit!"

Jonny grimaces in agreement, but stays quiet, flexing the fingers of his right hand where they're currently being clutched by Patrick's left hand. It's an uncomfortable, sweaty grip even though they've both had their post-game showers. Jonny doesn't know why Patrick thinks Sharpy is going to give in and let them let go. Sharpy _never_ gives in, at least not for Jonny's benefit.

Sharpy sighs. "I told you this would happen. I told you and you promised it wouldn't happen again, and yet you still did exactly what you always do and screamed yourselves hoarse at each other. Now you're going to deal with the consequences."

Duncs, observing the whole situation with glee that Jonny wishes he had the power to make him pay for, comes over and smirks at them.

"Why didn't you go for the classic, man?" he asks Sharpy. "Handcuffs and/or a locked closet door, works like a charm."

Jonny grunts in annoyance. He knows exactly why Sharpy is punishing them for their latest on-ice fight by making them hold hands for the rest of the night instead of stuffing them in handcuffs or locking them in a closet. The point isn't to make them get along through enforced contact. The point is to embarrass them in front of the team, and probably to annoy Jonny into confessing his secret crush on Kaner. Not going to happen, Jonny thinks firmly. Sharpy doesn't _know_ anything, he's just suspicious and nosy.

Patrick ignores Duncs and nudges Jonny's shoulder. "Hey, let's just get out of here," he whispers, probably trying to keep Sharpy from hearing. "We can let go if no one's watching."

"What was that, Peeks?" Sharpy says, baring his teeth in a shark-like grin. Damn old man has ears like a bat.

Patrick sends his best wide-eyed innocent blue gaze at Sharpy, while Jonny elbows him in frustration. If he'd just kept his damn mouth shut, they could have escaped. Now Sharpy's going to insist on team dinner.

Sure enough, Sharpy shakes his head like a disappointed schoolmarm and tsks at Patrick. "Not a chance," he says cheerfully, then turns to address the rest of the locker room. "Hey, who feels like dinner at Rockit on the rookies' tab?"

Jonny lets his head fall back and ignores Patrick's protests. It's going to be a long, long night.

+++

Patrick's drunk, and Jonny's about ready to kill himself along with anyone who gets in his way. They're still in a booth, stuck between Sharpy and Duncs to keep them from cheating and letting go of each other's hands, and Patrick has dealt with the problem of eating and drinking one-handed by snuggling against Jonny and not even trying to hold up his own weight when he can lean against Jonny instead.

Having a drunk Patrick Kane nuzzling his shoulder at regular intervals while they hold hands in front of their entire team is not what Jonny considers to be a good time. Between Patrick's warm breath on his neck and the hot clutch of his hand in Jonny's, only the extreme mocking he would receive from everyone is keeping his semi from manifesting into a full erection.

Jonny grunts in reply to something Seabs is saying from the other side of Duncs, and checks the time on his phone again. Only eleven pm. Sharpy catches him looking and shakes his head evilly.

"No escaping until midnight, Toe-es," he says.

Jonny slumps forward onto the table, ignoring Patrick's yelp of protest as he's pushed closer to the table as well. Maybe if he pretends to be asleep, he actually will fall asleep and this whole night will disappear forever.

No such luck.

"Jonny," Patrick says, poking Jonny's face with his free hand. "Jonny, I have to pee."

Pretending to be deaf might work, Jonny thinks.

"I have to pee," Patrick practically yells. "Get your huge ass up so I can!"

Seabs shoots Jonny a sympathetic look when Jonny finally opens his eyes. Maybe Jonny won't kill Seabs after all. Duncs and Sharpy, though – they're goners. He glares at them balefully, still ignoring Patrick, making it clear that he thinks there is only one acceptable solution to this.

"Nope," Sharpy says, answering Jonny's silent plea. "Just go with him, he might need help to keep from falling in."

Sharpy gets up to let them shuffle awkwardly out of the booth. "Jesus will know if you cheat and let go of his hand," Sharpy adds once they're clear of the table. "More importantly, so will I."

Jonny believes him, unfortunately. Not about Jesus, but definitely about himself. He tightens his grip on Patrick's hand as they head toward the bathrooms. A girl they pass on the way gives them a strange look, and Jonny feels the need to defend himself.

"It's a bet," he mumbles at her as they pass.

Patrick undoes any good he might have accomplished by winking at the girl and showily grabbing Jonny's ass. "A _sexy_ bet," he says, leering at both the girl and Jonny in a show of impressive douchiness.

Jonny flushes bright red and shoves Patrick ahead of him into the bathroom.

"There, fucking pee already so we can go back out there for more humiliation," he growls, closing his eyes as soon as Patrick is standing in front of the urinal.

"I can't," Patrick says. "I need help to undo my pants."

Jonny wonders what he'd done in his past lives to deserve this. Possibly he'd been a mass murderer, and he was probably going to be one again before long.

"Can't you undo your pants one-handed, Kaner?" he says, eyes still closed. "How useless are you?"

Patrick shoves him off-balance, catching him before he falls and forcing his eyes open. Their faces are close, Patrick's cheeks red and his eyes kind of bloodshot. He licks his lips and then grins. Jonny wants to kiss him so bad it feels like a physical ache in his bones.

"I'm drunk," Patrick says. "I can totally undo my pants one-handed when I'm not drunk, dude."

Jonny sighs. Then he undoes Patrick's pants. Sharpy is going to pay for this, someday.

When they get back to the table, Jonny takes the shot Seabs has ready for him, and spends the rest of the hour until midnight taking as many more shots as he can.

+++

Seabs takes them both back to his place, shaking his head at their drunken fumbling, but not doing anything to make Jonny add him to the list of people who are going to suffer for this. They’re still holding hands all through the cab ride and the walk up to Jonny's room. Jonny's not quite sure why, because Seabs wouldn't care if they stopped, and they've finally escaped from Sharpy's clutches. It somehow feels like he can't let go yet, or he'll be losing. Jonny hates losing.

As soon as Seabs leaves them two bottles of water and exits the room, though, closing the door behind him, Jonny snatches his hand back from Patrick's immediately and flops down on the bed. He's planning to pass out and forget that tonight ever happened, but Patrick Kane has always had a chaotic effect on all of his plans.

"Huh," Patrick says, sitting down next to Jonny's sprawled out legs. "My hand feels, like, empty now."

Jonny lifts his head and gives Patrick his best disbelieving stare.

Patrick shrugs, not meeting Jonny's eyes. "I dunno why," he says. "But it does."

Jonny snorts, turning over onto his back, and pokes Patrick's thigh. He's feeling a little more in control of himself now that he's not being forced to hold Patrick's hand. "What, you want to keep holding hands?" he asks, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

Patrick turns red and slaps Jonny's hand away from his leg. But before Jonny can pull away and start getting ready for bed, which will include kicking Patrick out to sleep on the couch, Patrick takes Jonny's hand back, holding it in both of his own hands, and running a thumb over Jonny's knuckles.

Jonny freezes, eyes caught by how good Patrick's hands look like that. His hands are big, bigger than the rest of him, like he's still growing into them. Jonny's had some very inappropriate fantasies about those hands.

Patrick takes a deep breath. "What if – what if I do?" he says, giving Jonny a defiant, cocky grin.

Jonny's stomach flips over, and he's pretty sure his eyes are giving away more than he would usually want them to, but maybe it's okay, now. There's a long, quiet moment - Jonny's not sure which way this is going to go - and then Patrick kisses him. Jonny kisses back, pulling Patrick down on top of him, and the whole night's worth of repressed lust crashes back into Jonny all at once. He's suddenly desperate, wants to get Patrick's hands all over his body, and more importantly, on his dick.

They're both still drunk enough to make things a little clumsy, though, and when Patrick manages to get his pants off while Jonny's still in the process of getting his below his hips, Jonny gives up on full nudity and pulls Patrick back down. He shoves a thigh in between Patrick's legs for him to rub against, and they move together, rutting against each other like teenagers. Jonny's honestly a little surprised that either of them could even get it up after their impressive number of shots, but he is not complaining.

Patrick's breath hitches when Jonny grabs his hands, holding them both above his own head so that Patrick is effectively pinning him to the bed. Patrick gets the hint pretty quickly, interlacing their fingers and keeping up a steady pressure. Patrick's hands feel like an anchor, the only thing keeping Jonny from floating away, and when Patrick gasps and smacks random wet kisses on his throat, coming between them, Jonny holds on to Patrick and lets everything else go, adding to the mess in their boxers.

It's not exactly like what Jonny has always fantasized sex with Patrick would be, but Jonny thinks it might be better. 

Patrick smiles as they both come down from the high, just a small quirk of his lips, and collapses next to Jonny on the bed. Their hands stay tangled together for the rest of the night. It's really impractical, but Jonny doesn't give a shit.

+++

Jonny wakes up with a) a headache and b) Patrick sprawled all over him. Only one of these things is actually good, but Jonny thinks the press of Patrick's warmth all along his body is enough to make up for the headache.

Patrick stirs, and moans. "Fuck, how much did I drink?" he says, eyes squinting up at Jonny.

It's a sobering thought, no pun in-fucking-tended. Jonny was pretty drunk, too, and it hadn't seemed like Patrick didn't know what was going on. But what if he hadn't?

Jonny is quietly freaking out with his eyes closed, body stiff under Patrick, when Patrick pokes his chest with a sharp fingernail.

"Hey," Jonny says, then actually looks at Patrick.

Patrick is grinning. "Don't be stupid," he says. "This has been coming for a long time."

"Oh," Jonny says. "So I can do this," and he slides his palm down Patrick's back to grab at his ass.

Patrick pushes back into his hand and then down against his crotch. Jonny lets out a groan as their cocks press against each other. They're both hard, and Patrick is giving him a ridiculously bright smile. It's everything Jonny never thought he'd get to have, but has always wanted. Well, he could do without the morning breath, but it's also a reminder that this is real, so he's a little grateful for it, in a way.

"Yeah, Jonny, come on," Patrick says, and Jonny decides that Sharpy can live for a bit longer. They might need his help to get the Cup, after all.

+++

Jonny whistles on his way into the locker room two days later, and slugs Sharpy on the shoulder, much more gently than Sharpy really deserves.

"Thanks, man, I owe you one," he tells Sharpy, and ignores Sharpy's confusion to head over to Patrick. 

Patrick laughs, and grabs his hand. Jonny can live with this.

 

[the end.]


End file.
